Pain in the wholemeal

Nick unwrapped the sandwiches his wife had made for him the night before.

They looked sad from sitting overnight in the fridge, with the cucumber slices having made the bread a bit soggy and dense. Cucumber, he thought to himself. What exactly was the point of cucumber?

Still, he couldn't complain. As Sarah would surely have pointed out, if he wanted something different, he could bloody well make it himself. She was determined he'd at least have some salad, and he didn't actually come out in spots if he ate it.

So, compromise tasted of cucumber.

As he munched his sandwich (the brown bread was another nod towards health) he reflected on the morning. He'd not been able to get across to Ron just why he'd found the High Street so disquieting - and now that he was here in the mess room, he found it hard to remember with real clarity.

Zombies! He knew that would be doing the rounds in no time; something he'd never actually said, but he was sure the words would be put into his mouth.

That said, at the time, his instinctive reaction to the people he'd seen was that, well, they really weren't themselves.



Part Two begins here.